


Of Lambs and Lost Timelines

by LittleLuna0304



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Infant Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 08:31:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLuna0304/pseuds/LittleLuna0304
Summary: Eliot and Fen gather their friends together to bury their daughter. Eliot has a moment of catharsis.
Relationships: Fen & Eliot Waugh, Margo Hanson & Eliot Waugh, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Kudos: 7





	Of Lambs and Lost Timelines

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've ever written and the first non-academic thing I've written in a decade so it's sloppy and I have no idea what I'm doing. if any veteran writers have suggestions/ critiques on fixing this, I'm all ears  
I intended to post this before the beginning of the new season but things happen.  
Whatever your head canon is, that Quentin never died in the first place or the gang somehow got him back the important thing is that in this fic he is happy (ish), healthy and alive.

The March from Whitespire down to the overgrown graveyard was a quite one. Fen ambled patiently by Eliot's side, never giving any sign that his careful wobbly steps guided by his cane bothered her. She just offered her arm as she led them down the ivy boarded path, the other hand carrying a bouquet of flowers she'd picked that Josh had carefully wrapped in butcher paper.

Margo followed close behind them watching them with her fairy eye. She had been the one to plan all this out. Once things had mostly settled down and she'd been unbanished, she paid the fairies a visit to collect on part of the agreement she had worked out with the old fairy queen. The bones of Eliot and Fen's baby girl would be returned to be buried in their rightful place at Whitespire. She was personally getting really sick of always being the one on corpse duty, but she had made a promise to Fen that she would get daughter back, even if it was a hallow gesture at this point. She was a bitch who kept her word. Tick had been more sniveling than usual when she had shut down his plans for a full royal funeral, but he was still scared enough of her that he had dropped the issue. It would be just Eliot and Fen with a few friends. Margo wasn't all that surprised when Fen had agreed to Josh being her plus one. They were kindred spirits, all sweetness, charm and patience. She was surprised Fen had invited Julia, she hadn’t been around for her adopting Julia as her fairy-almost-but-not-quite-goddess mother. And of course, wherever Julia went Penny and Kady were sure to follow.

So their little funeral procession made it's way into the castle graveyard. Eliot could feel the place like walking through fog, the magic there clung to the skin and hummed with the energy of something old. The trees that shaded the headstones were probably some of Ember and Umber's original work. When they came to the grave side, he was surprised by how small the headstone was. He shouldn’t have been but that was the first thing that came unwarranted to his mind. It was so small in comparison to the mausoleums that lined the paths. A small lamb laid atop it, with its legs curled under it and its head bowed. Underneath, in what was very obviously Margo's carefully spelled inscription “Summers Waugh, true born Princess of Fillory" Fen cleared her throat, “I know we never decided on a name, but Margo and I talked about it while you were……gone and we thought you'd like it.” Her chin wobbled a little “I just wanted to be sure she had a name. Quentin told me once that it's an earth tradition for lambs to be the guardians” her voice hitched again “for children.”

Eliot gathered her up and planted a kiss on her temple. “It's perfect". She smiled sweetly up at him before kneeling down to lay the bouquet at the base of the headstone. He wasn't sure exactly what their officials relationship was now, between death, destruction and dethroning but at least he could say that they were friends (a friend who he'd been inside, but she was hardly the first or only person on that list).

Once Fen got up and brushed the grave dirt off her skirt he came forward with Josh and Julia and slowly worked through the tuts for a spell. Josh had been the one to find it, finally putting a use to his naturalist specialty that didn’t involve cannabis or food. He had explained that it was relatively easy to tap into the latent energy of the fresh cut blooms and coax them into growing. It was hardly even magic, just gardening on steroids, which was good because he didn’t have the energy to cast it by himself, hence Julia and Josh's assistance. When they finished what had been a fresh grave was now a garden, with creeping burgundy roses the size of quarters blooming across the headstone and sweet alyssum covering the ground. It was the one and only gift he could give her now but it felt like the best thing he could do.

Fen was the first to leave. She traded Eliot's arm for Josh's, who handed her a handkerchief and said something about promised bake goods that made her smile as she wiped away her remaining tears. After that they all started to wander back up the path. Margo lingered long enough to squeeze his arm in unspoken understanding. He dug around in his pocket, bringing a cigarette to his mouth, lighting it with a snap. He had traded his typical tobacco for some of Josh's medicinal cannabis that he'd been experimenting with growing here in Fillory. He exhaled slowly,

“Since I'm on a grand tour of trying to make reparations for all my fuck ups, I figure you and I ought to have a talk.” He started “and you're not going to understand this because you're a baby… and you know dead, but I feel like I have some things to apologize for.”

He took another drag from the joint. “I already said this to your mom, but I'm sorry for the way I reacted to the news of your existence. It wasn't fair to either of you. But in my defense, it had less to do with you and more to do my own trauma.” He rolled his eyes, he sounded like a goddamn self-help book.

“I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to try to be the dad you deserved. Especially now that I know I could be good at it. Not great, mind you, but I had my moments. Q was always the natural in comparison, but I'm told it helps if you have good role models. But I really wish I had the chance to try.” He could close his eyes and could hear it, Teddy giggling uncontrollably when he hoisted him into the air, the lazy and warm afternoons napping curled up in the sunshine, the sound of laughter echoing off the walls of the palace. Timelines that had been erased, possibilities that had gone up in flames because of this bitch of a time line. “it’s just not fair.

He hadn't heard him walking up but he also wasn't surprised when hands snuck around his waist and Quentin laid his forehead against the cleft between his shoulder blades. He was sure he'd heard what he'd been saying, one habit that Quentin never seemed to be able to shake was eavesdropping, although his nosiness had saved their bacon on several occasions.

“Sorry I'm late.” He murmured into his back. Eliot shrugged trying to affect an aura of nonchalance since he was not sure his voice would work at the moment, but he reached up to squeeze the hand wrapped around his chest. Quentin stepped around him, his arm moving to his waist as he took in the sight of the flowers and the grave.

“Fen remembered what I said about the lambs.” He said quietly.

“Thank you for that.”

“yeah of course.” He fidgeted in that very specific Q way “do you think…I mean…. Would you ever want to try again? To be a dad, I mean?” Eliot turned to him. His eyes stayed on the headstone but Eliot knew he was thinking of Teddy. Teddy who had lived a full happy life but who also never existed and only remained in their memories. Which is what Eliot had to remind himself when it all got to be a bitch to think about and he wanted to down a bottle of tequila to avoid it. They only existed in him and even when it felt like it was all too much, he knew he had to be brave and face it because they deserved to be remembered and he was the only one who could. Him and Quentin.

“I don’t know. Maybe. One day.” He handed Q the joint and took his other hand and pulled him in the direction of the path back to Whitespire.

**Author's Note:**

> So cards on the table, I was watching the Magicians while I was pregnant and around the time my kid was born was when the big reveal about Eliot and Fen's baby happened and I had massive postpartum emotions about it. So I wanted to write something that gave them a little bit more closure than what we got in the show, especially with Eliot's mixed emotions about fatherhood and now having 50 years of experience in that department. Also shoutout to sugarybowl for the name Summers, which is totally borrowed from their fic "at last can grant a name" which is one of my all time favorite stories in this fandom. Definitely check it out.


End file.
